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by lady_dorkula



Series: King and jester AU [4]
Category: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Medieval, Batjokes, Bruce Wayne as the king, But there will be in next chapter, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Jack Napier as the jester, King and Jester AU, M/M, More plot because it had to happen, No smut for plot reasons, Period-Typical Homophobia, Secret Relationship, also Court of Owls is mentioned here, with lots of feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-17
Updated: 2020-02-17
Packaged: 2021-02-28 02:40:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,513
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22776538
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lady_dorkula/pseuds/lady_dorkula
Summary: In which the king doesn't come out of his ordeal unscathed, but luckily there are a few people who help him pick up the pieces and put them back together.
Relationships: Joker (DCU)/Bruce Wayne
Series: King and jester AU [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1621057
Comments: 6
Kudos: 62





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**Author's Note:**

> Chronologically, this part comes after part 2 so it makes more sense to read that first. More plot happened, though I might be biting off more than I can chew here. One way to find out! Let's take the journey into the unknown together! ;D

Really, things could have gone much better but given the fact that everyone came back more or less in one piece, this mission should be considered a success. People began to flood the courtyard as soon as the king and his cohorts strode through the gates of the keep, despite the late hour of their arrival. Or maybe it was just really early morning, Bruce couldn’t tell anymore. The guards moved aside to make way, standing at attention as the king passed by. 

The courtyard was illuminated by more torchlight and it became apparent that there were fewer horses than their original number. But upon closer look the knights were all present and accounted for, thankfully. The ones who were less injured walked beside the horses that carried the men who had received more severe wounds and couldn’t walk on their own. Pages moved about to help their knights off the horses or to help carry the injured inside so that the royal physician could tend to them and give them the medical attention they needed.

With a grunt, Bruce dismounted his steed and dropped to his feet, giving it a gentle tap before letting the stable hands lead the horse away to be watered and fed. His muscles burned with exhaustion and his armor felt too heavy. A sharp pain shot through his shoulder as a reminder of what happened. But he had gotten away with worse before, some of his knights required more attention right now. It was fortuitous they all came out of this ordeal alive. 

“Sir, I am so relieved to see you’re back!” He heard Alfred approach and turned to face him, smiling weakly at him as greeting. “Are you injured, sir?” Alfred’s eyes scanned his body for any obvious injuries, pausing on the bloodied shoulder. The expressions written on his face went from concerned to reproachful and after a moment morphed back to concerned.

“I am fine, Alfred, really.” Bruce tried to reassure him but it was moot because his body betrayed him. He winced when another pang of pain shot through his shoulder when he tried to move it, as if expecting it would have a different outcome. He was really good at deluding himself, or making light of his own pains. It somehow didn’t seem that important he was suffering.

“I can see that…” Alfred was anything but convinced. “So I take it, there is no wound on your shoulder that is bleeding right now?” He sighed and dropped the sass, overpowered by worry. “Let’s take you to the physician, your injury needs proper care and dressing.”

“No, Al, I just want to go to my chambers. I’ll be alright.” Bruce lifted his hand to stop him. He wanted nothing more than to just lay down on his own bed and sleep everything off, the pain, the worries, the threat looming over his head, everything that transpired these past couple of days.

“Pardon if I don’t trust your judgement, sir, but you still need to have that wound checked.” Alfred trailed behind and kept pace with Bruce as they entered the keep, still insistent on having Bruce receive proper care. The king was clearly intent on going to his own quarters, despite all the suggestions, no matter how reasonable they were. “Should I send for the physician to see you then?”

“I can deal with it.” Bruce sighed, and carried on. The king’s stubbornness was getting on Alfred’s nerves, but it was hardly anything new. He was young and tended to do reckless things, the steward thought. But he knew there was more to it than that, there was more under the surface than what Bruce let on.

“Very well, sir. In that case I will dress your wounds.” Alfred’s decision was final, done being patient and done taking any more of Bruce’s proverbial crap, pardon the expression.

“Thanks, Al,” Bruce said, both grateful and apologetic for putting Alfred through this. He really didn’t deserve him and his kindness. Bruce could be infuriating sometimes.

Before long, they reached the royal bedroom and Bruce dismissed the guard before inviting his steward inside. Thankfully, the servants had prepared the room for his return, the sight of the fire crackling in the hearth brought a sense of calm, of finally being back home. Or, close enough. As much as his mind let him feel at peace right now.

Bruce busied himself with removing his gloves, placing them on the table. He should have probably gone through the armory, but he cared so little about that right now, the thought came and went in a flash. Someone would probably bring his armor there in the morning, or later.

He reached to remove his cloak without aggravating his wound too much when he felt a pair of hands take over for him. Bruce stood there as his tunic and chainmail were carefully pulled off him one by one, along with the undertunic, and placed on the table next to the gloves. It felt good to finally have all the layers off him and Bruce did all but sigh with relief when his skin could finally breathe after being trapped under all the layers.

“Good lord…” Alfred was looking at the linen bandage covering the injured shoulder, soaked through with blood and in desperate need for changing. Alfred almost chided Bruce for the negligent care but held his tongue, knowing they wouldn’t change anything anyways. “You can sit on the bed, I will get some water,” he instructed and went out in a hurry.

Bruce did as he was told and sat on the edge of the bed, trying to assess the damage now that he had a better view. After checking his shoulder his gaze drifted lower to his side where he felt some pain as well and was not surprised to spot a rather large bruise forming. He slid his fingers over it just barely before pulling them away, grimacing. He tried to pull his boots off and with some effort he succeeded. He felt like a wreck. Right then Alfred returned with a basin full of water and clean linen in hand. 

“I suppose we should be grateful these were all the injuries you sustained,” Alfred spoke up, dragging a chair closer and placing the basin and linen there, since the armor now occupied the table. He took another look at the king’s body in case he missed any other wound and spotted the ugly bruise on his side too and sighed. “And that was all you being careful, I get it?” He continued with an almost chastising tone that was still full of fondness in its own way as he gestured at the injuries. Almost like a parent chiding their kid for misbehaving. “Let’s clean you up then.”

Bruce nodded, suddenly feeling like a young boy again, scolded for doing something irresponsible. Alfred had always been there for him even when he didn’t have to, and Bruce was grateful for that. He was almost like a father to him after his parents were…

“Brooding again, sir?” Alfred cleared his throat, recognizing the long lines forming on the king’s face. He tried to cut those thoughts short and get Bruce’s mind off whatever darkness it was surely sinking into. Alfred carefully unwrapped the bloodied bandage off the shoulder and inspected the wound that still looked irritated and angry. “Sword?”

“Dagger,” corrected Bruce, wincing when he felt the cool wet linen that was gently pressed against the gash. He remained quiet as Alfred carefully wiped off the blood that had dried around the wound so as not to reopen it. He dipped the cloth in the water again and wrung it out, proceeding to clean the wound itself, the silence stretching on between them. 

Bruce was unusually quiet and grim, even for him, which didn’t bode well but Alfred let it continue for a while longer before he decided that talking about it would do more good than wallowing in whatever misery had overtaken the young man. 

“What happened, Bruce?” Forgoing all titles, Alfred asked with concern as he continued to swipe off more dried and fresh blood. The response didn’t come immediately, it looked as if Bruce was trying to find the words to do so. He was not even bothered by the pain anymore, as if whatever he was thinking about hurt more. Alfred was patient.

“Do you remember how my parents died?” Bruce asked ominously, his head bowed, staring through the palms of his hands as if there was something marring them. Alfred let the silence stretch on for a moment longer before responding.

“How could I ever forget? Our beloved king and queen did not deserve this. To meet such tragic end. Truly horrible…” Alfred sighed solemnly, the memory still fresh as if it happened yesterday. “And we almost lost you too that night.” He wondered what had caused this unpleasant memory to resurface again in the first place. “What brought this on, Bruce?” 

“I think…” Bruce started, brows furrowing, forming more lines on his face. “I think those assassins are back. To finish the job.”

Those words were like a slap to the face. Alfred’s eyebrows shot up as he looked at Bruce’s face who was looking dead serious. The implications were more than troubling. 

“Are you sure it was them?” He looked for confirmation or a sign it could not be true, dropping the blood-soaked linen in the water. 

“They left little room for doubt about who they were working for. Trust me, they knew exactly what they were doing and why they were doing it. This whole series of events was just a roundabout but effective way to draw my attention. It was an ambush, a trap, and they were expecting me.” Bruce elaborated. “The only thing their leader said was, ‘You’ve been warned’, then he mumbled something about the Court before he died,” Bruce took a moment. “The rest either scattered or died by my knights’ swords in the fight, they were not willing to be taken as prisoners and would rather die than let that happen. Loyal.” Bruce sighed, taking a moment to gather his thoughts before he continued.

“It was them, I am sure of it. We both know this Court is not just some hearsay to scare the small children. These men were too well-trained and organized to be simple bandits. And they did all of this just to lure me out in the open because they knew I would try to take care of this myself, that I would take the bait. Maybe they expected I would get too cocky by trying to prove myself, to get sloppy. If I hadn’t trained as hard as I have or if I were a fraction slower they would have gotten me, and they almost did.” Bruce looked at his shoulder to illustrate his point. “That was me being careful, at my best.” He shook his head. “I need to do better. Can’t expect they won’t try to make another move sooner or later.” 

There was a permanent frown on Alfred’s face at this point, mulling over the words and what they meant. They only brought more questions than answers.

“But why now? What do they aim to achieve by killing you?” Alfred tried to make some sense of why this was happening.

“They clearly disagree with the crown. Whoever they are, we can’t ignore the threat they pose. We need to be prepared if they decide to strike again. Let’s see how badly they want me out of the picture. I refuse to live in fear. They should be the ones living in fear if they dare harm my people and my kingdom again.” The young man sounded more determined than despondent. “We must come up with a plan of action, and be careful who we discuss this with, we don’t know who can be trusted.”

“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves, sir. Maybe you should first focus on recovering first. We can worry about the rest later.” Alfred reminded Bruce he was not indestructible and definitely not in a condition to do anything right now. He took the clean linen and started to bandage the wound, wrapping the fabric around the shoulder. There was enough doom and gloom, it would consume the king if he let it. He knew Bruce would work himself to the ground if someone didn’t remind him to slow down. So Alfred tried to change the subject to something else he wanted to address while he worked on the bandage.

“Anyways,” he began with a little more levity, mouth quirking, “I am sure someone else would be very happy to see you are alive and well, mostly.” 

“What do you mean?” Bruce sounded confused, wondering what the older man was alluding to.

“Not to presume too much, but maybe next time you decide to engage in some more intimate activities, it would be wise to limit them to your private quarters instead of the throne room, sir.” Alfred watched the king’s face go through all the stages of realization – starting from shock and ending with embarrassment. “You were lucky it wasn’t someone else, I had to stay outside to try and dissuade anyone from walking in on you in a very…compromising position,” Alfred gave him a pointed look.

So there really was someone there after all. Bruce was covering his blushing face in his hands, trying to hide the shame somehow. If the earth suddenly decided to open up and swallow him whole right now it would save him from this awkward conversation at least. He knew he couldn’t keep it a secret forever, especially from Alfred.

“I’m sorry you had to find out like this, Al, this is really embarrassing.” He finally faced the older man, still looking apologetic and unsure. “It’s…I…” He looked down again a little dejected and very ashamed and ready to be reprimanded. “Are you disappointed in me?” was all he asked, avoiding Alfred’s eyes.

Alfred sighed and placed a hand on his good shoulder as reassurance. The fond gesture gave Bruce courage to look up. “It is not my place to tell you who to love, my boy.” He let the words sink in before he continued, looking Bruce in the eyes, searchingly. “Do you love him?”

Bruce looked down for a moment before he met his eyes again, nodding in affirmation. 

“I do.” He must have looked so vulnerable right now. Alfred smiled warmly at him. Was it pride? 

“And I presume the feelings are mutual?” To which Bruce nodded again, as if a little afraid to be to show his happiness from the fact. “Well then, I hope you realize this affair might coincide with some of your royal duties later on, even if it hasn’t interfered with them yet. I’d hate to see you get hurt in the end, son” he continued, not disapproving but cautious. The sullen look on Bruce’s face tugged at his heartstrings. 

“I know that, Al. Everyone keeps telling me what I must do, find a wife, get married, have heirs to the throne…I am here to do what is good for my people, but who cares what is good for me? Who asks what I want?” he couldn’t hide the bitterness in his voice, turning defiant. “He makes me happy,” Bruce finally smiles at the thought of Jack, his expression softening. “Sure, he can be ridiculous, difficult sometimes, but…I need him. Is it so selfish of me to want to hold onto him? To this one thing when I give everything in return?”

Alfred was taken aback by the honesty and openness, seeing this more vulnerable side of Bruce, not the mask of a confident and all-powerful king that everyone else gets to see. Had he been keeping this in for so long? No wonder he sometimes appeared to be so deep in thought. This too had been weighing on him, and he had no one to tell this to help carry the burden.

The older man squeezed his shoulder to make Bruce look at him again. 

“If anyone deserves to be happy, it is you, Bruce. Remember that. I will support you whatever you decide to do.” He nodded encouragingly to the young man and smiled. 

Those words meant the world to Bruce, as if a heavy weight was lifted off his shoulders, relief written on his face. He nodded back and watched Alfred tidy up the mess, returning the chair to its place and taking the basin and bloodied linen with him as he went to leave. 

“Thanks again, Al.” Bruce held the patched up shoulder. “For everything.”

“It was no trouble. Now would be a good time to get some rest. And do mind the wound, please.” Alfred suggested and made to leave. It was really late and Bruce needed all the rest he could get after what he had been through, physically and mentally. “Have a good night, sir.”

The steward stepped out of the door and was not surprised to see who was waiting outside the royal chambers. The late hour of the king’s return meant that everyone was already well asleep, so it explained why the jester was wearing just some simple clothing he probably put on in a hurry to get here as soon as he could.

“Is he okay?” the jester asked, his worry showing in more than his speech. He looked jittery and anxious as he brushed his hair away from his face. Poor man must have been pacing outside the room for a while, waiting.

“He will be fine.” Alfred took a better look at his disheveled state, definitely fresh off the bed. “Should you be here? He needs rest right now.” The steward tried to dissuade the jester, but he should have known better than to think anything would work on him. Even if Alfred were to shoo him away, the jester would probably just come crawling back to Bruce’s room. So he sighed and stepped aside to let the fool enter. 

“I suppose you can see for yourself. I am sure he wouldn’t mind the company.” He gestured his permission but warned the jester before he could enter the room, stopping him by placing a hand to his shoulder. “Just mind his injuries, please. He needs rest.” 

“Will do, old man. Have a good one then!” Jack was already brushing off the hand and moving past the steward by the time he finished his sentence. Patience was not his strong suit. Plus, he wouldn’t stay away even if he was kicked out, so it was surprising to see how agreeable the steward was being now all of a sudden, compared to before. Never mind that. Right now he wanted to see his Bruce!

As soon as the door closed behind him, Jack zeroed in on Bruce who was still sitting on the bed and looking pleasantly surprised to see his unannounced guest. The jester beamed and quickly closed the distance, leaping towards his king. 

“Jack? What are you doing up so late, you-” and before Bruce could continue he found himself with a lapful of jester and his breath taken out of him from the crushing hug. The lanky man was stronger than he looked. Bruce winced at the sudden force of the contact, his bruises protesting. “Ow!”

“Sorry, sorry!” Jack quickly unwrapped himself from his lover, still straddling him, looking sheepishly apologetic but happy. He had the biggest dopey smile on his face which Bruce easily mirrored, unable to hold back his own joy of seeing Jack again. “I am just really happy to see you, Bruce! I was-”

Bruce was the one to close the distance this time, sealing their lips and shutting up the jester. A contented smile was softening his features as he pulled back from the kiss. He wrapped his arms around the slim waist, exactly where they belonged. 

“I know, Jack, I am happy to see you too,” He cooed and leaned their foreheads together, breathing each other’s air, just being in the moment. It was nice to hold him again and feel his soothing presence. He would not let anyone or anything take that away, he thought, tightening his hold protectively. 

The jester sighed and wrapped his own arms around Bruce’s neck, trying to stay clear of the wound, melting in the embrace. He felt like a cat lounging in the sunshine; he could finally relax too. They stayed like that for a little while longer, enjoying the slow moment when suddenly Jack pulled back and smacked Bruce on the head half-heartedly.

“You idiot! What if you died? Did you even think what I would do then?” The disheveled man sounded upset, though at the same time he looked relieved too. “You didn’t even give me a proper goodbye, you ass!” He pouted.

“But I’m here now, I’m okay.” Bruce hushed and tried to assuage his anger, hating that he made Jack worry so much, he would probably feel the same. He knew he was sometimes a little too headstrong but he always had an excuse prepared for that. He didn’t say anything now.

“Barely! Look at you!” Jack pointed to his injuries. Bruce decided to change tactics.

“I thought you wanted to see some sense beaten into me for once,” Bruce joked instead to diffuse the situation. “Now you got your wish.”

“Well, you got me there...Hope it hurt and you learned your lesson,” Jack chuckled, carding his fingers through the hair on the back of Bruce’s head, admiring his face. Then he pulled Bruce into a slow kiss, reacquainting himself with his lover’s mouth, how good he felt and tasted, sighing when their lips met. The short beard that Bruce had grown felt nice as it scraped against his skin when the kiss inevitably grew deeper, tongues exploring and hands clutching at each other and craving the touch, bodies pressing closer and getting out of breath as the kiss went on. Jack moaned into his mouth, both of them unable to get enough of the other no matter how long they kissed, fumbling to get a better grip. Eventually, they had to pull away to get some air. 

“I missed you, you know. Terribly!” The jester breathed in Bruce’s air, gazing amorously into his eyes.

“I know. I missed you too, Jack. You have no idea.” Bruce held him by the hips and gave him another kiss, sucking on his lower lip gently. It made the lithe man shiver and giggle.

“Oh, I think I have an idea, Brucie,” the jester hummed and licked his way back between his lover’s lips, tilting his head and deepening the kiss. He pushed his lower body hard against Bruce and rolled his hips to brush their crotches together. The friction made both of them moan. Things were getting too heated too fast between them, like they always did. In all the excitement Jack pressed his leg a little too hard against the bruises on Bruce’s side, which forced them to break the kiss as Bruce winced again from the sudden jab of pain.

“Ow…careful, Jack” Bruce held his side and grimaced, cursing at his own injuries right now when all he wanted was to enjoy his lover’s affections.

“My bad, got too excited there. You just have that effect on me, your majesty” the jester quipped playfully with a lilting voice and caressed his cheek in apology. Despite the inconveniences, he was still beaming at Bruce, didn’t look at all deterred by the injuries to show his love for his king one way or another. Even if hopes for doing something more right now were quickly dashed.

Bruce sighed and closed his eyes at the gentle touch, leaning into it more. He covered Jack’s hand with his and brought it to his lips to press warm kisses on it which made Jack giggle. As he listened to Jack’s soft laughter he tried to remember if his own smile ever left his face since the jester walked in the room. Now he knew. He finally felt at home.

He leaned in to press a lingering kiss on Jack’s lips, taking him back into his arms and just holding him close in a loving embrace. The slimmer man relaxed completely in the strong hold and nuzzled up against Bruce’s neck, inhaling his masculine scent. 

The line between day and night was blurring. Dawn was breaking outside, roosters were slowly beginning to rise from their slumber and announcing the start of the new day. Even distant, their crowing could still be heard from within the castle, breaking the silence. 

Bruce felt dead tired and couldn’t hold back a yawn when it came. He felt like he could fall asleep like that, wrapped in his lover’s arms. Thankfully, Jack took notice and realized his king probably hadn’t had any real sleep since he left for the mission. Reluctantly, he pulled back from the hug and carded through Bruce’s hair affectionately.

“You need some sleep, dear,” the jester pressed a kiss on his forehead. “Not to sound mean, but frankly, you look like crap right now,” Jack chuckled and mushed Bruce’s cheeks cutely, which brought a smile on the king’s face and another giggle to erupt from the jester’s mouth. “Plus, we can’t have fun if you’re hurt and tired.” Jack added and winked, the sly bastard.

“I feel so appreciated right now,” Bruce deadpanned, but the next yawn only confirmed Jack’s words. “You’re right.” He begrudgingly agreed and took Jack’s hands in his, his eyes pleading and hopeful. “Stay?”

“What? You think I’d want to be anywhere else but here?” Jack smiled and squeezed Bruce’s hands back. “I’m not going anywhere, darling. I’m right where I want to be.”

They were in no hurry as they sluggishly disentangled and crawled under the blanket of the bed. Bruce laid on his back so he wouldn’t aggravate the wound on his shoulder more than he should. Jack made himself at home on Bruce’s good side, laying his head down on his shoulder and wrapping an arm around his waist, entwining their legs. It felt right.

“Sleep now, my dear,” Jack kissed him good night. Or morning, but who was keeping track anyways. Both of them were existing in their own pocket of time. The comforting warmth of his lover pressed against him soon enough lulled Bruce to sleep. He had been running on fumes, fueled by the adrenaline of the events that transpired, but now it was running short and his body desperately needed the rest to recover.

Jack listened to the even breathing of his king, relaxing even more from the slow rise and fall of his chest. He had gotten some sleep already, but it wasn’t long before he drifted off as well, snoozing quietly in the arms of his lover while the rest of the kingdom was just starting to wake up and face what the new day offered.

**Author's Note:**

> It was still hella fun writing this part despite the lack of smut, but there were feelings!! I love putting Bruce through the wringer for some reason. Wanted to write more interactions between Alfred and Bruce, and of course, between Bruce and Jack, see how they will deal with this new situation. Next one will have more feelings and sweet sweet love cause I'm a big sap! XD Gotta give a special shoutout to @bloodybess110 on tumblr for inspiring me to write more and helping me with figuring out how to go about some ideas. Anyways, hope you enjoyed reading this if you made it this far, and comments area as always, welcome! <3


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